


You Mess With One, You Mess With Both

by MisterTiberius



Series: You Mess With One [3]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Badass Roronoa Zoro, Blood and Injury, Bottom Vinsmoke Sanji, Canon-Typical Violence, Capture, Caring Roronoa Zoro, Idiots in Love, Injured Vinsmoke Sanji, Luffy Being Luffy, Luffy is a good captain, M/M, Marines are assholes, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Vinsmoke Sanji, Panic Attacks, Protective Roronoa Zoro, Protective Strawhats, Roronoa Zoro and Vinsmoke Sanji Bickering, Slow Burn, Top Roronoa Zoro, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-23 10:16:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23009911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisterTiberius/pseuds/MisterTiberius
Summary: *NEW AND IMPROVED VERSION*Sanji dragged his legs up, clumsily pushing to his feet. His shoes had been removed, and each ankle had a sea-stone shackle secured snugly against his pale flesh. The two manacles connected by a length of chain that was only two feet long, certainly not enough slack to get a good kick with. On top of that, the chain connected between the restraints was also bolted to the wall he'd been leaning against, his wrists tethered to each other with a thick set of cuffs. His lip twitched up into a sneer at the thought of an enemy being so close to his precious hands.He tore his gaze away from his bonds when his ears picked up the minute scrap of metal against stone from outside his prison. The blond drunkenly stumbled to the bars that separated him from the dimly lit corridor, face pressing against the sturdy poles in an attempt to see into the dark cell directly across from his own. Something within the shadows shifted, the movement accompanied by that grinding noise he'd previously heard."What the- seriously?"The familiar baritone growl had Sanji's grip on the solid bars tightening, relief and fury swirling into a perplexing mix of adrenaline and solace.
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji
Series: You Mess With One [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1316363
Comments: 8
Kudos: 110





	You Mess With One, You Mess With Both

Sanji blinked awake to a rhythmic dripping sound, squinting against the headache that throbbed in time with his heart. It took a generous minute for his senses to sluggishly get with the program. He was alarmed to find that his vision was more then a little blurred, bringing him to the sound conclusion that he'd somehow been drugged.

His surroundings came into sharp clarity so abruptly that his stomach rolled, the seemingly vivid shades of gray made his eyes twinge. He couldn't quite manage to swallow the groan that pushed up his esophagus, he managed to cut the pathetic sound short by channeling his anger instead, successfully turning the miserable noise into an annoyed growl. The chef's narrowed gaze swept over the room he was in, it was obviously a cell.

Sanji gnashed his teeth in frustration, his memory of the previous day cut off a little after the lovely Nami-swan sternly told him to go fetch the stupid moss from town. The blond scowled when he recalled seeing a small group of Marines on the way to the bar, everything was a foggy and confusing mash of colors and words after that. Sanji cursed the heavens, It'd be just his fucking luck if the shitty swordsman had something to do with this whole mess.

Sanji dragged his legs up, clumsily pushing to his feet. His shoes had been removed, and each ankle had a sea-stone shackle secured snugly against his pale flesh. The two manacles connected by a length of chain that was only two feet long, certainly not enough slack to get a good kick with. One top of that, the chain connected between the restraints was also bolted to the wall he'd been leaning against, his wrists tethered to each other with a thick set of cuffs. His lip twitched up into a sneer at the thought of an enemy being so close to his precious hands.

He tore his gaze away from his bonds when his ears picked up the minute scrap of metal against stone from outside his prison. The blond drunkenly stumbled to the bars that separated him from the dimly lit corridor, face pressing against the sturdy poles in an attempt to see into the dark cell directly across from his own. Something within the shadows shifted, the movement accompanied by that grinding noise he'd previously heard.

"What the- _seriously?"_ The familiar baritone growl had Sanji's grip on the solid bars tightening, relief and fury swirling into a perplexing mix of adrenaline and solace. The blond sucked in a deep breath, slamming a lid down on his temper. Starting a yelling match with the drowsy Marimo wouldn't help either of them, not to mention that the brute could fill in some of the gaps in his memory.

"Oi, kelp-head. Do you remember what happened yesterday?" The blonde's toes curled impatiently when he didn't get an immediate affirmative, which clearly meant that the Marimo was practically useless on that front. He huffed, arms dropping away from the bars to awkwardly hang in front of him. "What a help _you_ are." He grumbled, measuring how much slack he had until the chain pulled taut. His toes were only two inches away from the poles, which meant that trying to kick the metal caging him definitely wasn't an option.

"Where the hell are we, shit-cook?" Sanji's eyebrow twitched at the degrading nickname, he had to physically bite his tongue to keep from snapping back. The slightly darker shape rose, the swordsman's silhouette moving through the darkness with a grace that spoke of how at home he was in the ink that saturated his cell. Sanji's eyes nearly bugged out of his head when the mosshead stepped up to the bars, the corridor bathing him in light.

"Not sure, but it's probably your fault." The chef dumbly blurted, immediately cursing himself when Zoro's lips dropped into an irked frown. The Marimo had sea-stone cuffs clamped around his upper arms _and_ his wrists. Plus, his restrained arms were held behind him at what was _most certainly_ an uncomfortable angle in order to get as close to the bars as he currently was, not to mention that there was yet _another_ loop around his waist. His feet were also bare, his ankles cuffed together with the same amount of slack Sanji was allowed.

"For all you know this could all be _your_ doing, seeing as you can't even remember." Zoro barked distractedly, clearly preoccupied with getting a good look at what was in their immediate area with his one functioning eye. Sanji left him to his observations, stepping back to relieve the strain on his ankles. The mosshead's gaze fleetingly flicked over the blond, scanning him for any obvious injuries. It was as if a switch had been flipped in the Marimo's mind, he'd went from the mosshead that bickered and fought with the blond to the Future Pirate King's first-mate in the blink of an eye.

"Well, whoever they are, they're certainly not underestimating us. They used sea-stone cuffs." Sanji muttered, his attention stolen by the distant squeal of a heavy door opening. Both their heads whirled, the chef jerking forward to warily peer down the hallway. He could just make out nine human shapes getting closer, this heartbeat picked up when he saw the white and blue uniforms they were wearing. The one in the lead was obviously an Admiral, a justice coat adorning his wide shoulders, the elder Marine stood a whole torso taller then his men.

"Evening Black Leg, Demon of the East." The Admiral slowed to a stop between their cells, nodding to each of them in turn. Sanji's lips thinned into a flat, apathetic line at the mock politeness the Marine was showcasing. On the other hand, the Marimo's cinnamon brown eye sharpened with a unnerving amount of murderous intent, but his expression had shifted into an emotionless slate of marble. It was a strange but surprisingly effective combination if the lower class Marine's nervous shifting was anything to go by, Sanji was begrudgingly impressed.

"I'm Admiral Benjamin Roth, you're both being held in an underground Marine base at the center of the island. I'm confident that you're both fully aware of why you're here." Roth's tone was light and unassuming, his hands clasping together as his maroon eyes jumped between them. Roth's brows furrowed when the silence dragged on, neither pirate giving an indication that they would be going along with the Admiral's antics. Roth's jaw worked, caught between reluctant respect and building frustration.

"Yeah, I'm assuming you don't have Luffy and the others. You can't find them either." Sanji quipped, figuring that pissing the Admiral off this early in their imprisonment wasn't a good idea. Roth's face instantly smoothed back into his perfect mask at the blonde's declaration, nodding along in agreement. Sanji figured their crew must've left the docks because even the _Marines_ weren't stupid enough to forgo checking there, which meant Sanji and Zoro genuinely had no information regarding their crew's whereabouts. It didn't bode well for the two pirates, but at least the others were safe for the time being.

"Exactly, so I'm in quite the bind. I need one of you to be forthcoming about where you're crew is hiding, I'll even offer a deal." Roth waved a hand in the air, as if the gesture alone would make his offer more enticing. Sanji merely raised an uncaring brow, ocean blue eyes sliding away from the Admiral to the stiff Marimo. The mosshead was already looking his way, a mutual understanding passing between them the moment they briefly held each other's gaze. The chef broke eye-contact first, sighing loudly as to draw Roth's attention to him.

"Yeah...I'm gonna have to pass. Marimo here might blab though, won't you mossy?" The growl that erupted from Zoro's chest was nothing less than thunderous, the swordsman leveling Sanji's taunting smirk with a glower that would make a lesser man wet himself before running for his life. " _Not likely_." The swordsman spat, the words practically dripping with venom. Sanji pursed his lips in mock-sympathy at the baffled Admiral, the blonde's answering shrug projected _'well, I guess you're just shit out of luck then.'_ Which was a response that Roth _clearly_ didn't appreciate if his irritated frown was anything to go on.

"That's unfortunate, truly. I didn't want to resort to less...humane methods, but you're forcing my hand." Roth's eye seized when Zoro huffed out a dry laugh, Sanji adding in his own incredulous scoff. "I'll start with Roronoa, give your crewmate some time to think about my generous proposal." Roth produced a key ring from his jacket, handing it off to one of the low-level Marine's that flanked him. The poor soul who'd had the keys bestowed upon him eyed Zoro hesitantly, Sanji could almost _see_ the fear oozing from the Marine's pores.

"Ah yes, and Roronoa...if you don't cooperate, I'll leave you here and sanction my men to have an unsupervised hour to do as they please with Black Leg. Who knows what could befall him? My men are quite creative with their punishments." The chef's stomach churned at the implications of Roth's threat, he must've looked as alarmed as he felt because the Admiral squared his shoulders in satisfaction after glancing in the blonde's direction. The swordsman looked less then elated by Roth's warning, in fact, the Marimo's expression was downright _vicious_.

Feeling reassured, the Marine with the keys shakily unlocked Zoro's cell, the door cautiously squeaking open. The other seven Marines crept in as the first made his way toward the mosshead's eerily still form, Zoro's arms still tautly stretched behind him. The vulnerable position left him unguarded; but that, in _no_ way, made the swordsman _less_ intimidating. His keen eye followed the Marine's timid approach, head turning a minuscule amount in order to continue boring a hole into the trembling Marine as they fumbled to release the swordsman's right cuffs.

The tension that suffocated the hallway gave Sanji the break he needed to compose himself, mentally stomping down the unsavory images that accompanied Roth's promise. Zoro let his arm slowly drop to his side when it was free, the blond grimacing as the Marine moved into Zoro's blind-spot. To his credit, the Marimo didn't look _nearly_ as unsettled by this as the chef was, remaining as cool as a cucumber as the Marine fiddled with the two remaining shackles. When both arms were unhindered, they were immediately cuffed in front of him in an identical fashion to Sanji's own predicament.

"Oi, Marimo. Try not to have _too_ much fun." Sanji mused, relishing in the middle finger that was brandished at him in return. The simple action spoke volumes, it was a wordless assurance that Zoro could take whatever was about to be dished out and a barb all at once. The blond scrunched his nose, mainly to keep up appearances as to not tip the Marines off on what was being said _between_ the lines. Two of the bigger Marines poked at Zoro with their rifles, urging the swordsman in the direction they wanted him to go. A part of Sanji wished he was tagging along just to see the Marines struggle to keep the directionless mosshead on the correct path, it would've been _comical_ to witness.

"You'll have your turn soon enough Black Leg." Roth vowed, following after his men as they collectively herded Zoro toward the thick metal door that cut the holding area off from the rest of the base. Sanji trusted that the Marimo would at least attempt to get a general layout of the compound, but the chef wasn't going to hold out hope for that particular plan. Not much he could do but wait though, so he opted to pace the length of his cell to familiarize himself with all his fighting restrictions. One never knew when they'd have to fight regardless of restraints, weather, or injury. The blond didn't think weather was going to be an issue until they got outside, but the other two did pose quite the problem.

"They might not wound the kelp-head too badly the first time, they'll be focused on testing how much he can take." Sanji muttered, running a hand through his greasy locks. His lip curled in disgust at the slick feel his hair had, he couldn't imagine that his clothes were in better shape. He wasn't sure how long he'd been lying on the grimy floor before he came-to, his internal clock was already suffering. He heaved a sigh, experimentally tugging on the chain that connected him to the wall. There was no give, not even the tell-tale creak of old rusted metal. In fact, it all looked relatively new, which slightly complicated matters.

"It seems the Marines _are_ capable learning from their mistakes."


End file.
